


Energy

by kesomon



Series: Ram, Expanded [10]
Category: Tron (1982), Tron (Movies)
Genre: Bits, Circuit Touching, Comfort Sex, Energy Pool Fic, Extended Scene, Fluff, Headcanon, Light Bondage (of a sort), Light dom/sub (of a sort), M/M, Permission, Worldbuilding, adorable bbys, circuit porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-09
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 12:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Expanded movie scene: the energy pool. </p><p>The trio stumbles across an energy spring after their daring lightcycle escape. Bits are discussed, Flynn is Captain Narcolepsy, and Ram has a favor to repay Tron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by infiniteviking (the gen) and shirozora (the smut). A better combination you shall never find.
> 
> Warning: while chapter 1 is a little suggestive, chapter 2 contains explicit material, but is also completely optional to read. If you choose to skip it, the relevant plot details will be in the notes for chapter 3.
> 
> This was going to be a porn-only segment, but then there were glowing mushrooms on my Tumblr dash, and a Bit cameo in Uprising, and I had to run with it.

At the head of their tiny procession, Tron came to an abrupt halt, signalling _[stop]_ with a raised hand and frowning heavily.

Ram was instantly tense.

 _/whatisit?_ he pinged privately, undocking his disk just in case and looking warily around. Behind them, Flynn did the same, although his was a look of confusion and worry. Tron tilted his head slightly, turning, and Ram could tell he was attempting to triangulate whatever he had sensed.

“What is it?” Flynn hissed, echoing Ram’s unheard query a bit too loudly for the actuary’s liking. Ram spun around and glared, hoping his angry look was enough to convey ‘ _do you not understand the meaning of stealth, glitch-brain?_ ’

Flynn had the decency to look sheepish, and signed something that Ram couldn’t read, pulling two fingers across his mouth. The actuary stared – now he was the one with the confused look, but Tron’s hand on his arm shook him out of it.

“Ram, can you sense that?” Tron murmured, still tilting his head, alert, yet no longer frowning so deeply. Instead he looked curious. Ram furrowed his brow – his sensor subroutines weren’t as developed as the security program’s were – and closed his eyes, trying to feel what Tron had felt.

It came to him a moment later: a faint tingling against his circuits, sweet ozone and static drifting past his olfactory sensors.

He opened his eyes wide in shock. “Is that…”

But it was Flynn who saw it first.

“Hey, what’s that?” He pointed to a spot in the distance where something was casting a faint, out-of-place glow amidst the low-res, darkened outlands they had been hiking through.

“If that’s what I think it is, then that…is just what I need, _right now_ ,” Ram exclaimed, and without bothering to dock his disk he scrambled up over a ridge. He could hear Tron muttering behind him as his companions followed his example, but Ram didn’t pay them any mind. He was too intent on reaching that light. His hopes were validated as he rounded the last jutting structure and beheld a sight that nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Nestled amidst the broken landscape, raw, liquid energy had welled up from a deep crack in the terrain, trickling down to collect in a shimmering pool of clear white-blue light. The overflow was probably a result of the MCP’s power hoarding, and Ram wondered if the bit-brain knew he’d sprung a leak somewhere.

The actuary whooped with unbridled delight, startling his companions who had stopped at his side, equally awestruck. He slid down the slope, one knee bent beneath him, the other out in front to stabilize his descent, a hand trailing the silicone behind him. Denied energy for so long and too far from the life-giving spring to draw sufficient power, the fragile slope crumbled beneath his weight as he passed, kicking up a small cloud of pixelated sand and dust up in his wake.

Closer to the spring, the landscape changed drastically, humming with living power beneath Ram’s boots. It was obvious the pool hadn’t been there long, as there were only small clumps of data-growth clinging to the edges of the rocks. Tiny glowing disks stretched outward from the patches of delicate crystalline threads, soaking in the ambient electrostatic the energy pool was radiating.

Ram was flat on his belly amidst the miniscule crystals and scooping the precious liquid into his mouth before Tron or Flynn had even reached the bottom. His circuits brightened with every swallow, pulsing as the raw energy coursed through his systems, making him giggle with elated relief.

When he’d gulped down enough to make his head start buzzing with the raw input, he looked up, grinning at his companions. Tron had followed Ram’s example and was flat on his stomach, using both hands to cup energy to his mouth as he drank his fill. As Ram met his gaze, the security program _laughed_ , his circuits bright as he rolled onto his back and heaved a heavy, satisfied groan from his chest, practically purring as his systems hummed.

“Ah. You forget how good the power feels until you come to a pure source.”

Tron was completely right, and Ram couldn’t take the power in fast enough. Suddenly, the actuary thought of a brilliant idea. He released the energy he’d gathered in his hands – it splashed back into the pool, sending ripples across the surface – and reached for his disk. He hadn’t re-docked it to his back, but it had been forgotten on the ground by his side until then. Now he picked it up, dipping it in the spring and pulling it up, filled with shimmering liquid.

“My friends, my fellow conscripts, we have _scored_ ,” he proclaimed, grinning as he sipped the gathered energy and sighed. “I feel _so_ much better.”

Flynn, ever the odd program out, was still studying the liquid with a cautious eye, kneeling beside the pool. He glanced from Tron to Ram curiously, and muttered, “That’s incredible.” Ram watched as he bent over and scooped up a small handful of energy, barely enough to feed a byte, let alone power a subroutine for a microcycle.

As with many things, the strange program was approaching this situation as though he had never experienced it before. The look on Flynn’s face was wary as he sighed to steel his nerves and tentatively tasted the energy in his cupped palm. His eyes widened quickly as the tiny amount was processed, circuits flaring bright, and he coughed, gasped sharply and laughed with amazement.

“Whoo. Man, that stuff’s got kick.” Bolder, the novice conscript leaned down and took a larger handful, drinking just as readily as his companions.

Ram’s systems were just about topped off, so he offered his half-full disk to Flynn. The program took it with a thankful grin and started scooping up energy as Ram had done earlier.

After a few disks full, Flynn sat back up with a relieved sigh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Ah, man, that is like ten cups of coffee and a southern fry-up in one go. Is it always this potent?”

“Raw energy usually is,” Ram replied dryly, as Flynn turned to examine the surrounding terrain. He seemed rather interested in the little clumps of data-growth, brushing his fingers over the delicate threads and glowing disk-stalks.

But he jerked his hand back sharply as one of them crumbled to pixels after a too-hard touch. “Aw, geez, I didn’t mean to do that.”

Ram laughed lightly and sat up, brushing silicone dust and crushed data-growth pixels off his stomach. “It’s alright; it’ll just re-grow in a couple microcycles. Stuff’s resilient like that.”

“What is it, anyways? Looks like moss or something.”

“It’s data.” Ram filed the word ‘moss’ away in the growing databank he had for Strange Things Flynn Says. “When a program gets derezzed, their data absorbs back into the system – you’ve seen that, right?”

Flynn nodded, scowling darkly for a moment. Ram didn’t blame him; no program deserved that kind of first-hand knowledge.

“Well, not many programs know this, but only _most_ of the data returns to the system,” he continued. “Some of it, though, it lingers and floats around in the air. We can’t see it, but it’s there. If conditions are right and it finds a place like this, a source of pure energy, it anchors nearby and forms these little data-growths.” He gestured to a larger cluster. “They form collection disks, those little glowing stalks, and absorb the ambient electrostatic the energy spring is giving off.”

Flynn grinned, examining the tiny luminescent green disks. “Heh; they look like mushrooms. Radioactive mushrooms.”

Ram squinted. “I have no idea what you just said.”

“Forget it. Is that all they do: grow and absorb static?”

“Well, no. Eventually they grow big enough to form larger, sturdier crystals, and then they bud off and form Bits.” Flynn looked puzzled. Ram returned his look with one of exasperation. “Really? You don’t know what Bits are either?”

Flynn frowned, affronted. “I know what Bits are; I just didn’t know they budded off of crystals.”

“They can bud off from programs too, but that’s usually a conscious decision made by the program in question, since it involves using your own code data to form one. Program-budded Bits act more like external subroutines. They’re very loyal to their host program and most can’t survive without them.” Ram looked over at Tron, who was listening to them and watching Flynn with suspicion.

“The more free power is available, the more Bits you’ll find. It’s a sign of a healthy system,” Tron put in, folding his arms. “And the more Bits there are, the higher the likelihood of finding Bytes.”

“Bytes are clusters of Bits, right?” Flynn asked, earning a nod from both his companions. He looked back down at the data-growth he’d crushed and grimaced. “Well, now I feel really bad about destroying it.”

Ram chuckled and leaned forward, catching Flynn’s eye, as he scooped the data-pixels into his palm and dumped them in his disk, which still had a small amount of energy in it. He added a bit more energy with his hand, and then gently poured the mix over another cluster. The little mushrooms, as Flynn had called them, brightened and turned their disks upward in reaction, the liquid energy pooling in their shallow cups.

“There’s a third way Bits can be created, and that’s with a program giving the data-growth a bit of a push,” he explained, as he let some of the power he’d absorbed trickle into the tangled data-threads through his fingertips. The data reacted favourably, and the threads began to grow and coil into tighter clusters before their eyes. Within picocycles, larger crystals began to form. Flynn was spellbound, barely running his air intakes, as if exhaling on the data would derezz it again.

Ram pushed power into the growth until one of the larger crystals split at the tip. Gently, he plucked the newly formed Bit off, cupping it in his hands. It was barely the size of his thumb, and still resembled a crystal: clear and glassy, with a blue-green tinge in its facets.

"Hey there, little one," the program murmured with a grin. The tiny creature's structure flushed a pale cream colour and it let out a tiny * _ping_ *, then turned a bit more knobbly and pink and emitted a sound more like * _blat_ *, causing Ram to chuckle.

"Aw, yes, language is a bit much at first, isn't it?" He cooed. "Let me just..." He fed a bit more energy into the circuits in his palms, until the budded Bit had doubled in size and turned opaque and gray. It rocked against his fingers and levitated as soon as he uncoiled his hands, spinning lazily in the air as though sizing up the much larger programs around him.

Ram grinned at Flynn, who was gaping in wide-eyed wonder. “Pretty cool, huh?”

 _[YES]_ agreed the Bit, flaring yellow and flat, and chirred, bumping against Ram’s cheek. Ram laughed and waved it away gently. Flynn made a soft noise of amusement and awe and reached up a hand as the Bit floated over towards him. “That is just…radical, man. Fantastic.”

He almost touched it, hesitated, and dropped his hand again, apparently not wanting to risk derezzing it. The Bit had other ideas. It spiked red and scolded Flynn with a _[NO-NO-NO]_ , before rubbing against his cheek persistently. Flynn spluttered and reached up to fend it off, and found himself with a handful of insistent Bit begging to have its facets stroked. Ram and Tron stifled snickers as the next few nanocycles were spent watching the program become a Bit’s petting-slave.

Eventually the Bit grew tired with Flynn, much to his relief. It _[YES]_ ed one last time at Flynn in thanks, flew a few circles around Ram with more _[YES-YES-YES]_ es, and flew over to Tron last.

Ram spluttered with laughter and had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stifle his mirth when the Bit, after floating near Tron’s head for a moment, spiked _[NO]_ and bopped him gently on the helmet, before chirping _[YES]_ brightly and flying off to parts unknown. Tron shot Ram an irritated smirk.

“It’s your Bit all right.”

Ram giggled and grabbed his disk again, sprawling back on his stomach and scooping up another helping of energy. Flynn too returned to the spring, kneeling and bending forward to lower his lips directly to the surface, slurping noisily.

“You two should watch your intake levels,” Tron warned, sounding amused. “You’re going to overch–” He stopped mid-sentence.

Ram had caught his eye and, as the security program watched, the actuary licked his lips and grinned craftily as he tipped the rim to his lips and drank the energy in slow, deep gulps. Each swallow made his circuits pulse, and he could feel his systems starting to heat up from the excessive power levels. Tron’s gaze sharpened and a brief ripple of lavender flickered through his circuits.

Oh yeah. Message received.

Flynn looked from one program’s intense stare to the other and chuckled, bemused. “What’s with you two?”

“Nothing,” Ram and Tron said simultaneously, and Ram looked at Flynn. “You okay there, Flynn? You look…” he made a waggling motion with his hand. The other program’s circuits were hazy, almost white with his high power levels, and the light was pulsing dim and bright a bit too quickly as his systems tried to compensate. Flynn chuckled and shook his head, then paused, wavering in place and leaning on a hand, his smile gone in favour of a nauseous expression.

“Now that you mention it, I do kinda feel a little diz…”

Without warning, his circuits brightened sharply with a power surge, throbbing intensely for a picocycle, before they flickered and went dim as Flynn’s systems went into automatic shutdown to prevent system failure. The program slumped backwards, crushing a patch of data-growth, and started hibernating deeply, systems whirring as they worked to dispel and neutralise the excess power.

Tron and Ram stared at him for a second.

“Some programs just can’t process raw energy,” Tron observed mildly. He met Ram’s gaze across the spring, and both of them cracked up laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my gen readers: This chapter is entirely porn and can be skipped if that's not your thing. A short summary of the important plot information will be given at the start of the last chapter.

Still giggling, Ram got to his knees and shuffled over to check on Flynn. The novice program seemed fine. His air intakes were making an odd noise, a damaged-sounding rumble with every inhale and exhale, but aside from being rather loud, it didn’t seem to be causing Flynn distress or harm.

A wicked smirk crossed the actuary’s face and he dropped to all fours, crawling over to where Tron was laying on his back. The security program grunted when Ram half-sprawled on top of him, lifting his head with a bemused smile. The smaller program laid an arm across his captive’s chest and stifled Tron’s pending query with a hand over his mouth.

“The lightweight is really out of it. Best be quiet and not disturb him.” Ram’s grin was mischievous as he moved up to straddle Tron’s hips, bending over the monitor and switching to binary communications. ~ _I seem to remember I promised returning the favour someday…_ ~ He trailed a finger around the curve of the illuminated circle surrounding Tron’s identity mark, watching the circuits flush indigo, and flicked his eyes up to smirk suggestively.

He grinned as Tron’s eyes widened in comprehension. The security program’s hexagonal pupils darkened with keen anticipation as he sat up, brushing his hands against Ram’s sides to steady him, then slide upwards to stroke thumbs over the nodes just below his dorsal array.

Ram’s systems were already running hot from the excess energy, and he couldn’t contain the shudder that ran through his body at the touch, circuit array brightening. Encouraged, Tron slid his fingers lower, following the curve of Ram’s back; they brushed over a cluster near his hip and he sucked in a sharp breath, circuitry blooming magenta out from the point of contact.

“Okay, wait, wait a picocyc,” he protested, breathing a bit fast as he pushed hands against Tron’s shoulders and forced the other program back a little. “I thought I was supposed to be the one repaying favours here.” He smirked at the embarrassed, yet defiant look on Tron’s face.

“I’m not sure…I’m not usually the one receiving. I don’t think it’s in my code,” the security program muttered, even as he leaned back in and nuzzled a patch of Ram’s armour circuits that made the actuary whimper and roll his eyes. _~I just…~ /want **-need-** touchyou **–**_

“Oh – oh, okay – ah, Tron!” the system monitor had drawn his mouth over a line, teasing it with his teeth, and Ram pushed him back again. ~ _Stop it,_ ~ he ordered firmly in binary. Tron looked sheepish, but nodded and stopped, hands resting at Ram’s hips and carefully not touching any of the nearby circuits.

Ram tilted his head thoughtfully, brushing his own fingers gently along the curve of a lavender-hued line. Tron shivered, the hungry look in his eyes deepening. Ram tapped his fingers against Tron’s armour, then shifted and looked at his friend seriously.

“Tron, do you trust me?”

Tron’s eyebrows knit in a puzzled frown, and he smiled. “Of course I trust you, Ram; why do you ask?”

“No, Tron – I mean, do you really trust me? Me, Ram, the not-entirely-an-actuary; as a firewall – as a system security monitor, do you trust me despite every line of your code telling you I am a threat to this system, to you?” Ram’s gaze was uncharacteristically solemn.

Tron’s smile faded as he caught Ram’s seriousness. “Why do you ask?” he repeated, studying his friend’s face for some sign of what was troubling him. Ram worried his lower lip between his teeth, and then leaned in, almost nose to nose with the monitor.

“Because I am about to suggest doing something to your code that I want to be absolutely sure I have permission for. Something you might not like, but I promise on the honour of my core binary I will not abuse it.” Ram searched Tron’s gaze, hope pleading in his eyes. Tron hesitated, and leaned forward to close the gap between them, resting his helmet against Ram’s.

~ _You were the first to speak to me; the first to rise up when called; the first I told of Alan-One, and the first to teach me things I didn’t know. I gave you my disk, Ram, and never once doubted you to have my back. I trust you._ ~ Tron’s gaze was steady, and his words firm as he finished with a data-ping. _/permissions-accessgranted._

Ram’s eyes widened in awestruck shock and he swallowed, feeling every circuit pulse at the tremendous weight that Tron had just given him. Suddenly overwhelmed, he yanked his helmet off and surged forward; his head nested against Tron’s jaw as he exhaled raggedly and all but forced a ping-set into the monitor’s systems; _/trust-want-awe-love-friend- **thankyou**_.

He felt Tron shift, open his mouth to speak, and cut him off, nuzzling closer and grazing his lips over a node at the curve of his neck, tasting the electric sharpness of freshly-energized circuits. Tron sucked in a breath and his fingers tightened on Ram’s hips. Ram groaned and moved in response, rubbing up against the firm line of Tron’s leg. He slid his arms up the monitor’s back, fingertips following the direct pathways, until they rested on a cluster just below his disk dock. Summoning the subroutines needed, he pressed his fingers in hard, and Tron’s back went rigid with a startled cry, his circuits shifting rapidly purple with the sudden rush of pleasure the touch had invoked.

“Wh-what did you…” Tron panted, and as Ram removed his grip, made a needy sound that made Ram’s circuits flush the same magenta hue.

“Temporary primary-function shut-down,” the actuary murmured, pushing an unresisting Tron down until his back rested against the silicon. He leaned over Tron and smiled, reaching up to push the monitor’s helmet off and aside, running his fingers through the darker locks. The caress made Tron’s eyes flutter half-shut with a quiet whine. “Same principles as the restraints the Reds use, only less invasive. It’s a compliancy override, makes you less inclined to fight back – or take charge, in this case.” He looked momentarily worried. “You’re not mad, are you?”

Tron shut his eyes with a frustrated look, clearly straining against something unseen in his code as his fingers flexed, and finally opened them, a hard gleam in his gaze. “Not yet. But I will be – if you don’t –” _/touchme- **now**_.

Relieved, Ram smiled. “Oh good. Because I’ve never done that before and I wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t glitch something – or even actually work, come to think of it.” And before Tron could register that and give an appropriately outraged response, Ram shifted forward, grabbed Tron’s disk, and leaned over the other program’s head to scoop a helping of energy from the spring. It sloshed over the shallow edges and dripped in glowing splatters as he shuffled his way back down Tron’s body.

If the move entirely intentionally rubbed against every torso circuit Tron had, _well_.

Tron’s eyes rocked back in his head with a shaky moan as a measure of energy dripped right to the centre of his chest, the circuits around it brightening and shifting to a deep purple as it soaked into his shell. Ram settled back astride the program’s hips and set the disk to the side, dipping his fingers in the shimmering liquid.

“I dreamed of finding a place like this,” he remarked with glee, and drew his moistened fingers in a trail over Tron’s chest, skating around the rim of his ID-mark. “ _Users_ , you have no idea how many times. Drinking that toxic waste they called rations. Eugh. If I wasn’t sure I’d blow a circuit and drown myself in the process, I’d dive right into that spring.”

“Y’know, for someone-ah,” Tron gasped as Ram leaned in and traced the line he made with his tongue, hands gripping the actuary’s hips tight. “F-for someone who tells me to be quiet, you-hnf; you’re being very chatty.”

“Am I?” Ram smirked, and dipped his fingers into the energy again, cupping it to gather in his palm, and tipped it slowly over to splash against Tron’s chest, quickly diving in to lap it away before it could absorb into the monitor’s systems. One adventurous dribble had snaked its way down to the edge of Tron’s armour, and Ram smeared it with wet fingers, following the glistening line until it dropped off. He slipped his fingers under the edge of the chestplate, stroking the shell array directly, and Tron swore sharply, heels digging into the ground as he arched his back into the sensation, desperate for more.

~ ** _Users_** _, crash it_ –~ / _dothatagain- **need** -toomuch-not **enough**_ “ah-hh! Frag, Ram –”

“Pretty chatty yourself,” Ram said smugly, and pooled more energy in his palms, taking a sip before he leaned down and lapped his tongue against the right-most square on Tron’s ID-mark.

Static crackled against his tongue and shot through his systems and he moaned, panting hotly against the lights. He mouthed at the main cluster intently, his energy-covered thumbs finding primary nodes at the sides of Tron’s torso, rubbing in tight circles until Tron was keening and bombarding his processor with garbled packets of / _want-want-need-Ram-moremore **more**_.

Ram could feel the power fizzing against his tongue, Tron’s circuits almost too bright to look at, when the security program finally gasped out a ragged “Ram, frag, stop.” ~ _Stop!_ ~ The binary held serious intent. He pulled his mouth off of the abused circuitry and met Tron’s gaze, a storm of arousal and want brewing in the monitor’s eyes. ~ _Cancel the override_.~

~ _But I wasn’t finished,~_ Ram pouted, resting chin on hand and tracing a circuit idly with a finger. Tron shuddered and whined, shutting his eyes as his boot heel scraped against the ground, panting softly.

_~Ram…~ /needtotouch- **abort-override.**_

Ram considered ignoring the command for a moment – but he had Tron’s trust, and that was worth more than mischief. Leaning forward to brace himself over the trembling security program, he trailed his fingers down a line on Tron’s neck, then followed it down and around to the necessary cluster, deactivating the override with a stroke of his fingers.

Tron gasped, stiffened for a moment as his primary functions rebooted. Then he surged up, forcing Ram to hastily sit back or risk knocking heads. The security program’s arms caught his torso before he could retreat further, and suddenly Ram was the one under assault, panting and keening as Tron nuzzled and stroked and rubbed against his circuit array, already hyper-sensitive with the excess charge.

The actuary tilted his head back with a soundless gasp as Tron tugged the collar of his body suit down and attacked his throat, lips grazing over the delicate circuits patterned at the curve of his neck and shoulder.

~ _Impetuous_ ,~ was the low-frequency growl as Tron sucked at a node, ~ _sneaky, manipulative, reckless…_ ~ Ram stifled a sharp moan in his throat as he felt the circuits crack under the abuse and spark against the swipe of Tron’s tongue, sending a rush of pleasure jolting through his systems. ~ _You have no idea,_ ~ and Tron’s mouth was suddenly on his, pressing in, lapping at the taste of energy that lingered on his tongue, ~ _how much…~_ Tron’s teeth nipped at his lower lip, a heady exhale through his nose as Ram raked his fingers along the back of Tron’s neck and deepened the contact with a breathless whimper, ~ _you make me want to just…~_

 _~Tron,~_ Ram whined, tangled his fingers in the monitor’s hair, ducked his head to rest against an armoured shoulder as Tron clutched him closer. He rocked against the other’s lap, circuits sliding against circuits, sending snaps of power crackling through their systems. His vocal subroutines failed him; he just pressed closer, feeling Tron’s hands on his back, caressing, soothing – and suddenly it wasn’t about favours. Ram keened with a different sort of need, and wrapped his arms around Tron’s chest, curving up under his arms to fist against his shoulders.

They moved together; rocking, rubbing, caressing; synced in soundless, breathless want, craving every touch the other could give. And then Tron’s fingers found their way to an array cluster low on Ram’s back, and the actuary was suddenly lit with the static, dizzying rush of energy-release. Deeply magenta circuits pulsed and flickered as he gasped his overload against Tron’s throat, digging fingers into circuitry until Tron was coming and shaking beneath him in tandem, stifling moans against the curve of Ram’s shoulder.

They stayed entwined, tucked in each-other’s arms as they came down from the high. Ram pulled back a little, enough to meet Tron’s gaze. Then, by mutual, silent decision, they pressed close once again, and went into light hibernation, not willing to give up the physical contact they’d been too-long deprived.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my gen readers: Assuming you skipped over the porn in chapter 2, here is a summary of the plot-relevant events.
> 
> _After checking on Flynn to make sure he was okay, Ram decided to take the opportunity to repay Tron for the favor he did in Overcharged. Unfortunately, although Tron was eager and willing, the security program couldn't bring himself to give up control of the situation. Ram asked if he could use a function-lock, a code similar to the ones used in the restraints the Sentries used in Seven Firsts, to subdue Tron's take-charge attitude. The only way he would do it, though, was if Tron truly trusted him and gave him permission to access his code. To his surprise, Tron told him he trusted Ram implicitly, even though Ram had infiltrator code. Overwhelmed, Ram glomped him, and proceeded to use the function-lock. Porn proceeded, with much touching and liquid-energy play, until Tron couldn't take it anymore and demanded the lock be undone. Ram complied, and it was Tron's turn to play. The intimacy grew as pleasurable touches soon turned into a desperate need to just be physically close, satisfying the tactile cravings that being isolated in the cells had denied them. Once their energy surge had died down, they dozed off, wrapped in each-other's arms, unwilling to give up that comfort._

Some nanocycles later, Ram remembered another fact about data-growths, and chuckled in sleepy amusement as he nuzzled against Tron’s chest. The actuary was sprawled perpendicular to Tron, his head nestled against the other program’s chest, a hand resting on the edge of the monitor’s central mark as he stroked his thumb over the delicate lines. Tron’s voice rumbled in Ram’s ear through the armour it was pressed against. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It‘s the moss.” He liked Flynn’s word for it. “Feels all fizzy.” Usually, when it came to data-growths, a program was in and out of the area far too quickly for the radiation the collected patches gave off to affect their systems. They’d been laying in the stuff for nano-hexes. Fortunately, it wasn’t harmful, but it did incite a euphoric, muzzy feeling as the low-level electrostatic absorbed into their outer circuitry.

Tron gave a deep sigh, air intakes purring smoothly, and shifted an arm up to rest his hand on Ram’s head. Ram hummed drowsily, turning his head into the fingers that threaded through his curls and began scritching.

He gave a deeply satisfied groan and stretched luxuriously as Tron’s fingers brushed a circuit at the nape of his neck.

 _/good-yes-that’sthespot_.

“Hedonist,” Tron accused fondly, scritching more firmly. Ram didn’t deny it, merely chuckled and used the convenient proximity to Tron’s chest to swipe his tongue over the nearest indigo circuit, making Tron jerk, startled, and curse at him in short, unintelligible binary. Ram grinned and sat up, stretching his back with a satisfied groan and looking towards the skies.

In the outlands, the auroras of digital transmissions were easier to see, even if there weren’t as many of them those cycles. The rippling glow from the spring painted patterns on the programs’ armour and the dark rocks around them, but wasn’t enough to wash out the moving, shifting colours that occasionally flickered across the black expanse.

Ram struggled for a moment with a stirring of complex emotion at the sight that tightened around his core processor, and exhaled a deep, unsteady sigh, leaning back on his hands.

Behind him, Tron sat up, stretching, and got up to pace the perimeter of the spring. Ram watched him lazily for a moment, before returning his gaze to the sky.

After a few nanocycles more, Tron returned, sitting down at Ram’s side, and held out the actuary’s discarded helmet with an expectant look. He was already wearing his own helmet.

Ram sighed again, this time with long-suffered exasperation, but took the helmet anyways and shoved it down on his head. He twitched slightly as it re-synched with his circuit array and lit up, and listed sideways to lean against Tron’s shoulder.

The monitor tipped his head back to gaze at the horizon. “It’s stronger, now. I can feel it more clearly.”

Ram glanced up at him, curious. “Alan-One?”

Tron nodded, gaze set on the distant red beam that extending up into the dark sky from the I/O tower they’d scoped out earlier.

“Fun’s over, huh?” Ram queried dolefully as he watched the reflections of light on the rocks.

“We should probably be moving on,” Tron remarked, though even his tone held reluctance to leave the oasis.

Ram looked up towards the sky, worry crinkling his brow. “Tron…after you contact Alan-One…do you think we’ll have time to send any other messages? I…wouldn’t want R_Kleinberg7 to worry about me – and I’m sure Flynn’s User would want an update; he did say he had the same tasklist as you.”

Both of them looked across the spring at Flynn, who was still out like a light.

 “I hope he didn’t fry his subroutines with that power surge,” Ram remarked with concern, cocking his head. “I don’t think I’m in any shape to be backpacking his shell across the outlands.”

Tron leaned forward to dip his disk into the energy pool, then climbed to his feet and walked around to the sleeping program. He stopped, tilting his head with an entirely placid look, and then slowly tipped the contents over onto Flynn’s head.

Flynn came online with a splutter, flailing a hand ineffectually against the deluge. “What the hell, man!” He exclaimed, glaring up at Tron.

Ram was in fits of hilarity, clutching his sides.

“Oh good; you didn’t crash after all,” the security program replied, deadpan, as he docked his disk. He turned away and began striding towards the scree-slope. “Last chance to top off energy levels, programs; we’re moving out.”

Still giggling, Ram scooped up a last double-handful of energy, humming happily as it settled into his systems and equalised the power that had been lost earlier. He climbed to his feet and trotted after Tron, glancing back to where their third party member was still lingering at the spring. “C’mon, Flynn, put a cork in it!”

“Just a second!” Flynn stuck his head right to the surface of the spring and slurped noisily, then made a satisfied noise and scrambled to his feet, hurrying after the two programs as they made their way towards the I/O tower and Alan-One.


End file.
